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Cyran danced ahead, spurred along by wind, high attributes, and preternatural battle instincts. Meanwhile, Elijah pursued, steps plodding and doggedly determined.

With a flick of his mind, Elijah used Throne of Spores, pushing the ability to its absolute limits. Thousands of fungal tendrils erupted from the ground, darting toward Cyran. The dragon’s teal scales glinted as he leaped high into the air and spread his ephemeral wings. They caught the wind, bearing him high above the arena floor.

At the same time, Cyran cast whirlwinds of sharpened air back at Elijah. They hit, tearing through Shell as well as the shield associated with his Chausses of the Wild Revenant. The two barriers served to slow the windbound blades just enough that when they hit his fungal flesh, the wounds they inflicted were only mildly frustrating.

Elijah continued his pursuit, knowing good and well that he would never catch Cyran. Not so long as he maintained the Shape of Spores. Instead, his goal was to wear his opponent down – at least until Mycelial Regrowth ran its course. Then, he would change tactics.

So it went for a long two minutes as an annoyed Cyran stayed far ahead of the chase. It was a moving standstill, and one that clearly frustrated the young dragon.

Elijah could deal with it just fine.

After all, he’d fought battles that lasted months. Cyran would fall well before Elijah ran out of patience.

The dragon cut Elijah’s tendrils down by the acre, filling the air with yellow spores that never had a chance to reach their target. Instead, Cyran swept them away with hurricane-force winds.

Still, Elijah pursued.

Cyran shouted insults. He launched one attack after another, all wind-based and deadly. But Elijah endured. And he pursued.

Like a predator following a trail of blood.

The pressure never let up. Elijah gave him no chance to regroup or recover. Even after Mycelial Regrowth petered out, the chase continued. As it turned out, Wild Resurgence, Blessing of the Grove, and Regenerative Steps were enough to keep him mostly healthy. Cyran’s damage would eventually outpace the healing, but Elijah always had Bough of the World Tree in his pocket.

Elijah kept it up for almost ten long minutes. In that time, he endured enough damage to rip him to pieces a hundred times over. But such was the advantage of the Shape of Spores. It was built on regeneration. Taking it down required a much more potent burst that, outside of that first salvo, Cyran simply couldn’t muster.

Then, things changed.

Elijah had been expecting it, but the suddenness of it still came as a surprise.

Cyran rose hundreds, then more than a thousand feet into the air. Once he’d stopped, he settled down to rest.

The crowd jeered.

Elijah stopped and looked up.

Then, he leaped, bounded off of Cloud Step and threw himself even higher. It took one more instance of the ability before he came within range of his foe.

Cyran had been expecting it.

Winds swept in, hitting Elijah’s ankles and flipping him sideways. Another gust kept the cartwheel going. On and on, with wind blades cutting through him. It was like being put into a blender.

Elijah threw his Mantle of Authority out, but an amulet around Cyran’s neck flashed with the power of a deity. The item’s trait kept Elijah’s soul at bay, then started eating through it.

Elijah pulled back.

Cyran shouted something Elijah didn’t hear over the sound of rushing wind.

He shifted.

This time, he took on the Shape of the World Serpent. The wind still came, but by the time Elijah managed the transformation, it had lost its purchase. After all, the world serpent’s flight was entirely magical. In that form, Elijah would not be moved unless he wanted to be moved.

He dashed forward, ramming into Cyran. A cushion of air shielded the young dragon, but the momentum sent him rocketing backward with enough force that he briefly lost control of his elevation.

Elijah used Dimensional Leap, keeping the ability constrained to less than a microsecond. He reappeared just above Cyran’s trajectory and rammed him again. Caught entirely off-balance, the young dragon had no way to stop the sudden change of direction.

He plummeted toward the earth.

However, he was no green combatant. He was a veteran of the arena, and he’d assuredly fought in multiple towers and Primal Realms as well. More, he was prepared for Shape of the World Serpent.

As he fell, Cyran threw a half dozen marble-sized items. They spread into a wide net before suddenly stopping. Energy arced between them, forming a loose net. When Elijah slammed into them, he felt his entire body lock up. Ethera stilled, and pain lanced through his nervous system.

For a brief moment, Elijah felt panic slam into him.

His soul flared, spreading across the arena. The net flickered, and Elijah dove.

Before he could make it through, it reactivated, attacking the very magic that kept the serpent aloft. Elijah countered by shifting forms. This time, he did something Cyran could not have expected.

He embraced the Shape of the Primordial Deep.

Cyran’s eyes widened a second before Elijah hit the ground. His fingers went to a pouch at his waist, fumbling as an enormous dragon turtle fell towards him. A swirl of wind pushed Cyran out of the way, and just before Elijah hit, he used The World is an Ocean.

He slipped into the sand with barely a splash.

A moment later, he erupted from the ground like a blue whale, his jaws clamping around Cyran. Then came a satisfying crunch.

Elijah’s mouth exploded.

He flipped backward, reentering the sand as his mind went temporarily blank. One cluster of leaves maintained consciousness, layering healing spells that countered the concussion.

His beak-like mouth had been shattered, and a good portion of his brain had been destroyed by the explosion. But he was alive. And with every passing second, he recovered a little more.

He swam through the earth, searching for his opponent.

Cyran hovered a hundred feet above the ground, his body rapidly regenerating as he drank a potion. Elijah sensed another vial nearby.

Anger rushed through him. Potions and unreasonably powerful items were meant to be banned. Even Thorn had barely made it below the cut. But it seemed that Cyran’s clan had decked him out with deity-level items and potions. The only reason Elijah hadn’t already succumbed was because the demi-god was incapable of getting full use out of them. Not through lack of talent, but because that was how things worked.

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“Licking your wounds, beast?!” shouted Cyran.

Elijah didn’t answer.

Instead, he stayed belowground, letting Wild Resurgence mend his wound. It didn’t finish the job before The World is an Ocean ran its course. With only a few seconds to spare, Elijah activated Whirlpool. As he did so, he pushed it to the absolute limit of its power.

And the arena exploded.

Geysers of sand and rock erupted into the air as a massive swirl of earth spun through the stadium. Hundred-foot-tall waves crested – not enough to reach Cyran, but providing a pretty impressive distraction.

Elijah used Aquatic Body Control, shrinking down to no bigger than a normal sea turtle, before sliding free of the earth and taking shelter behind one of the small mountains his ability had created. The World is an Ocean fell away, and the arena solidified. By that point, Elijah was already transforming.

This time, he took on the Shape of the Scourge.

He’d hidden beneath the earth long enough to leave combat, and Cyran was entirely unaware of his location. So, he had no trouble slipping into Guise of the Stalker and bounding across the arena.

From his windborne perch, Cyran shouted for Elijah to show himself, but that command went ignored as Elijah embraced Spreading Blight. He leaped, kicked off of Cloud Step, then hit Cyran claws-first. He latched onto the shocked dragon, digging his talons deep into flesh as his scorpion-like tail punctured Cyran’s shield.

Over and over, like a sewing machine.

Blood and bits of flesh rained upon the arena floor as they plummeted.

Cyran attacked with wind blades, tearing through Elijah’s much less durable body. But it was a price Elijah was more than willing to pay. Over the next ten seconds, they were both ripped to shreds. Cyran survived because of powerfully enchanted gear. Elijah, because of Wild Resurgence and sold constitution.

But by the time Cyran managed to dislodge Elijah, neither were in good shape.

Elijah hit the ground, already back in his human form. He recast Blessing of the Grove, Wild Resurgence, and Bough of the World Tree. The powerful trio put his body back together, mending the rips and tears in his flesh, fusing his bones, and reenergizing him.

Meanwhile, Cyran drank another potion.

But it did little to stop the spread of Ethereal Sepsis and Spreading Blight. Elijah pointed Thorn at him and added Nature’s Claim to the list of afflictions. Unfortunately, the spores failed to take hold, but they still locked up some of the potion’s healing.

“All you need to do is surrender,” Elijah said. “Just give up, and the pain stops.”

“Never!” shouted Cyran as ethera gathered in his chest.

Elijah braced as his foe expanded into his dragon form. Hundreds of feet of rippling muscle, teal scales, and massive claws.

The wind swirled.

Elijah piled on the healing.

And then, Cyran burst into a humanoid tornado. The vaguely man-shaped creature gleamed with aquamarine light, with eyes blazing pure and malevolent white. It reminded Elijah of the creatures he’d fought in the Gauntlet of the Sky Lords within the Elemental Maelstrom, and rightly so. Cyran had taken on the form of an elemental.

Wind cut through the air, faster and deadlier than ever before.

Elijah moved.

He leaped, bounded off Cloud Step, and transformed. This time, he took on the form of the Emberkin Saint. With the improved reflexes, he managed to stay just ahead of the swirling winds. He engaged every leaf in his mind as he leaped and contorted his body to dodge the onslaught of attacks.

He was like a frog dancing in a blender.

Quickly, charges of Seed of Ashes built, but Elijah recognized that he couldn’t remain unscathed for much longer. So, the second he reached a hundred charges, he used Flames of Renewal.

Fire burst forth, whipped into a frenzy by the swirling winds. Elijah’s lost momentum made him an easy target, but he didn’t care. His body would soon be rebuilt anyway. He attacked, one pulse of fire after another ripping out of him as he plunged into Cyran’s air elemental form.

The wind screamed.

Elijah’s arms and legs burst into dense and destructive flames.

When the final wave of fire tore across the arena, Elijah exploded into ashes. Only then did he recognize the issue.

His spirit let out a soundless scream as he felt his ashes scattering across the arena. Elijah’s soul arced out, each branch gathering ashes before retracting. His body reformed, blessedly solid, as an ephemeral tree formed above his head. It stretched for hundreds of feet, and beneath its boughs grew a forest.

Not as quickly as it would have if he’d used two hundred charges, but still rapidly enough to give him cover.

Cyran’s elemental form continued to swirl, but it had shrunk by more than half.

Elijah was almost out of ideas, though.

Thankfully, Shape of Embers still had a couple of tricks up its sleeve.

With Wild Resurgence still rushing through him, Elijah leaped from the new forest, his arms and legs blazing with power as he plunged into the windstorm. Powerful gusts tore into the forest, hurling whole trees into the air. Elijah summoned Thorn to hand, and his blade lashed out as he targeted the gleam of turquoise power in the center of the elemental.

Wind blades descended upon him.

He dodged. Hundreds of times until he felt like he was going to burst. Then, Elijah used Herald of Regrowth.

His attributes soared.

He moved with god-like finesse. Suddenly, the wind was too slow to touch him. And the core of Cyran’s wind-elemental form couldn’t stand before his massively increased strength.

It shattered.

The dragon fell free, limp and seizing.

Elijah plummeted, too.

But just before Cyran hit the ground, the arena shook. The dragon’s eyes flicked open. And he attacked.

With Herald of Regrowth still singing through him, Elijah defended. Claws met Thorn, and the spear won the exchange. They slammed into what was left of the forest, felling trees with the impact.

Elijah leaped to his feet, spear in hand.

Power surged through Cyran’s dragon form. His soul stirred. His body bulged with new muscle. And when he moved, he did so with doubled speed.

Elijah leaped over the initial strike, then slammed his spear against the dragon’s now-impenetrable scales. He kicked off Cloud Step, barely dodging a blistering claw strike before ramming his spear into Cyran’s eye.

It didn’t penetrate even an inch.

Elijah dove, hitting the ground with a roll before reversing course and raking Thorn across Cyran’s stomach. Sparks flew, but no damage was done.

On and on it went, with Elijah staying just ahead of him. He had no clue what Cyran had used to become so powerful. It was as if he’d jumped two cultivation levels in the blink of an eye. Maybe more.

Probably an item.

But it hadn’t come without a cost. Cyran’s core fluctuated wildly. His soul wriggled like a bag of snakes. And judging by the fire in his white eyes, his mind verged on insanity.

Elijah knew he couldn’t last long enough for those consequences to catch up to the dragon, though. Even as he danced around, attacking where he could, Herald of Regrowth slowly ticked down.

He needed a new tactic.

A different idea.

Or, given his past, an old one.

Elijah dodged a claw strike, leaped over another, and then threw himself between Cyran’s snapping jaws. Wet meat closed in, but Elijah didn’t hesitate to plunge headfirst. As he did so, he shifted into his human form.

It was only slightly larger than the emberkin, but those few inches mattered. Especially considering that his human shape possessed a much a much more rigid skeleton.

He dug through Cyran’s throat, and bones started to break under the immense pressure. Elijah countered it with his trio of healing spells. Even that wasn’t enough to outweigh the damage, though.

Elijah kept moving until he was lodged a dozen feet into Cyran’s throat.

Muscles contracted all around him, pulverizing him.

He ignored it, shunting that pain into its own cluster as he started casting spells.

First, Eternal Plague. He dug deep into False Grove and Grove Conduit. Ethera flooded him, and he channeled all of it into his spell. Thousands of mites manifested, then immediately started to dig into the slightly-more-delicate flesh of Cyran’s throat. At the same time, Elijah repeatedly cast Nature’s Claim. Over and over, even as the swarm built. At first, the spores refused to take hold, but after a minute or two, they managed to find purchase.

Cyran writhed.

He bucked and tried to cough Elijah up. Acidic bile came from below, washing over Elijah and ripping the skin from his flesh. It wasn’t the first time he’d been bathed in digestive juices, and he suspected it wouldn’t be the last.

Elijah endured it, trusting his ongoing healing spells to keep him alive.

He could outlast the other dragon. He would, or he would die trying.

Every now and again, Elijah added Lightning Domain to the mix. Just to keep Cyran from getting comfortable. The dragon drank more potions. One after another. Elijah managed to get a little of each into his own mouth, and that added to his own regeneration.

Gradually, Elijah’s surroundings turned black with disease. He could feel mushrooms sprouting from Cyran’s back. From his chest. From his eyes. And yet, he survived.

An hour passed.

Then two.

Three.

And finally, he realized that Throne of Spores had come off of cooldown.

At last, Elijah went for the kill. He shifted into the fungal guardian, immediately activating Throne of Spores. Tendrils erupted from the ground all around Cyran. He cut them apart with claws and wind blades. But he could do nothing for the ones that grew from Elijah’s body.

They snaked into the weakened flesh of Cyran’s throat, digging deeper and deeper until they tasted air. Elijah activated his Mantle of Authority, and though it was quickly countered by Cyran’s item, it disrupted the flow of ethera just enough to further weaken the dragon’s body.

Elijah flexed.

And the tendrils flexed with him.

Thousands of them, all at once, hooked themselves around the dragon’s neck and ripped through his flesh. Elijah pushed them harder and harder, exceeding even the theoretical limits of the spell. He screamed.

And then, suddenly, Cyran’s head fell free.

It flopped to the ground as the body went limp. Elijah gripped the rotted flesh of the dragon’s throat as the neck thudded to the ground.

Then, he transformed.

His emerald-scaled body ripped though Cyran’s corpse, showering the arena with meat and blood. The wind died.

As a dragon, Elijah spread his wings and roared.

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